The Fang and the Bow
by Britedark
Summary: Collection of short pieces revolving around Inuyasha and Kikyo. Mostly written for LiveJournal contests. #14: Drawn - Why did Kikyo return to the mystic island in the fourth movie ?
1. Flower Hunt

**Author's Note: **_This is an extrapolation of a scene from "Tragic Love Song," anime episodes 138-139. 'Korana' is a non-canon character. This one-shot was written for the 'Wilted Rose' community in LiveJournal, week 1.  
_

**Flower Hunt**

Kikyo loved children. Few things gave her more joy than being surrounded by them, answering their questions, or teaching them a bit of her accumulated lore of plants. And when, on that fall day, when she glimpsed Inuyasha's distinctive outfit among the red and gold leaves, she called out quite on impulse, inviting him to join her and the children.

"You've got to be kidding!"

She stared a moment as he turned his back on her and sat down against the trunk, before looking away, fighting not to show her reaction of hurt and anger. She'd only been trying to be friendly--he didn't have to be rude! Then chagrin overtook her first reaction--why hadn't she thought before she spoke? A couple of conversations and a gift did not equal friendship and trust. She did not need to have heard his story to know that humans had probably never accepted him, let alone trusted him around their children. As it was, some of the villagers would be furious if they learned she'd invited something with youkai blood to join her and the children. How could she blame the wild hanyo for instantly rebuffing her suggestion, given the way she'd surprised him with it?

She turned her attention to the children and smiled at them, resolving to find a time to hunt up Inuyasha and talk to him later. "So what do we want to do?" she asked them.

"Let's play hand ball!" exclaimed one of the girls.

"Let's pick flowers!" Hands grabbed her hand, her wrist, and tugged her around. "Yeah! Red flowers!"

"No, pink!"

"I want yellow!"

She laughed, letting herself be drawn from the tree holding the sulky hanyo. "I'm sure we can find all those colors," she told them, pulling away a bit. "Now let's go this way." She started towards a clearing that she knew would be thick with fall flowers. She had taken perhaps a dozen steps, listening to the children chatter about the flowers they wanted, when she heard a voice behind her.

"Why don't you want to come down and play with us?"

* * *

Inuyasha leaned against the tree and tried not to let his startled nerves make him fidget. He tried to fume--how dare she 'invite' him to join the brats that way. Did she really think they'd do anything but scream and run away, when he dropped down and let them see what he was? Was she trying to get the villagers mad at him? Didn't she know, that villagers always chased away a hanyo stupid enough to approach them openly?

Nevertheless, he couldn't help looking over his shoulder as he sensed Kikyo moving away. What if she'd really meant that invitation? Wouldn't that mean she--trusted him? To not scare the kids? Had she somehow figured out, that he didn't really think he could ever hurt a little boy or girl?

Of course, what difference did it make? Regardless of Kikyo's intent, they'd still scream and run away--

"Why don't you want to come down and play with us?"

He started, and then leaned around the broad branch and looked down. A tiny girl was looking up at him, her hands spread against the trunk. She smiled at him. "I'm Korana," she said. "What's your name?"

"Uh..." She wasn't running away, screaming? He stared at her, nonplussed. "I'm ... Inuyasha."

"Oh." He could see her eyes moving to his ears. "Are you part dog?"

He bristled. "No, I'm not part dog!"

She flinched, and her huge, dark eyes glimmered with incipient tears. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

His ears sank, and quite before he realized, he was on the ground next to her, in his usual four-point squat. "Look. I, uh, I'm--I'm not mad. I--uh--"

She brightened, flashing smile. "Oh, goody!" she interrupted. "I'm glad! She grabbed a handful of sleeve and tugged. "Come on! I think we're going to go get some flowers! What kind of flowers do you like? I like the kikyo-flowers--they're so pretty! Just like Kikyo!"

Inuyasha let himself be drawn to his feet, blinking in confusion. "Kikyo-flowers?"

"You know," said Korana in a tone of impatience, looking up at him. "The ones that grow to look like big, round, blue bells, then pop open to be a flower."

Inuyasha hesitated, mentally groping, and then recalled the blue flowers that had bloomed in summer and fall in one corner of his mother's private garden. "Oh. Uh--I think I know the ones you mean."

"Good! Let's go find some!" She turned away and started towards the others, who had stopped and were watching, her fingers gripping his sleeve. The hanyo followed, forthwith, feeling flustered and not understanding at all how he'd gotten into this awkward position of being led around by a little girl. But he could hardly free himself now, so he was going to be flower hunting, like it or not.

He noticed Kikyo's smile and felt his cheeks warming as he hurriedly looked away. She'd just better not laugh--

* * *

Kikyo kept from laughing as Korana pulled the discomfited hanyo along with her. She knew he'd be even more embarrassed and angry if she did, and so she suppressed the giggles. She looked down at the children as they started to ask questions. "He is not a youkai," she assured them. "Yes, his ears are dog-like, but he's not a dog. His name is Inuyasha, and he's going to help us, so let's go find those flowers, hmmm?"

They were young, they trusted her, and the lure of picking flowers was equal to their curiosity about the stranger. She led the way to the clearing, one eye on the odd pairing of little girl and hanyo. She wasn't surprised when they drifted away from the others, nor surprised when Korana returned to the group with her arms full of the blue bell-flowers. Nor was she surprised when Inuyasha disappeared almost as soon as the girl was back with the others. She reassured the little girl that Inuyasha had good reason to leave, then began to lead the group back towards the village. She wasn't looking forward to the arguments when the villagers learned what had happened, but, still, overall, she felt pleased.

Perhaps her wild hanyo wouldn't be that hard to tame, after all.


	2. Measure of Trust

**_Author's Note:_**_ This was written for week _146 of IYFic on Live Journal. This is a quick scene that will later show up (in expanded version) of Blood Unbound.

**Measure of Trust**

He placed her on the seat he'd carved in the fallen tree, before hastily backing away. Kikyo took in his wary stance, the shadows under his eyes, and refused to sigh. "Can you trust me?" she asked, instead.

One hand crept towards the rosary she'd been forced to use. "I--want to," he whispered finally, ears shivering, canted backwards.

She wanted to cry for his fear and her pain, but kept only a gentle smile on her face, as she slowly reached for and removed a comb from her sleeve. "Let me comb your hair?"

He blinked, and then bristled. "I don't need no hair-combing!"

"Please?"

Inuyasha twitched, fidgeted, and then dropped down to the ground beside her. "No ears!"

"I won't touch your ears." As gently as she could, she lifted a small handful of the recently-shorn hair, marveling at how fast it had grown, though it still had to reach his shoulders. Keeping her anger at the cruel Tsubaki buried, Kikyo ran her comb through the pale locks, untangling the snarls, removing the bits of leaf and twig. Sooner than she hoped, the comb glided effortlessly through his silver hair. She kept combing.

He shifted restlessly. "You done, yet?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

An ear twitched, repeatedly. She kept combing.

She watched his body relax, and eventually, droop. She kept combing.

He snuffled, sighed, and leaned against her leg. She kept combing.

The exhausted hanyo surrendered to sleep.

She smiled.

And kept combing.


	3. Respect

**Respect**

"Miko-sama!" "Kikyo-sama!"

Everyone called her that. Sometimes, it seemed she would suffocate with a surfeit of respectful address. A certain amount of respect was expected, of course: one should be polite. But was she nothing besides her work? Always the priestess, never the woman? She would pass the chattering women of the village, hearing them addressing each other with an affectionate 'chan,' or perhaps 'san' or 'dono' to the older women. But they never addressed her that way. Never addressed _her. _

Even her sister used only the most respectful form of 'sister.'

On the other hand...

"Oi, bitch! Where's my Shikon No Tama!"

Him. Again. With perfect timing, she whirled, sending four arrows his way as fast as she could fire them, pinning him to the tree with his robes, the last one--with malice aforethought--striking very close to a certain vulnerable part of his anatomy. He yelped, gulped, then glowered. "You fucking bitch!" he yelled. "Getting a bit careless, aren't you!"

She sighted over her drawn arrow, waiting until he twitched, then lowered it with a smirk. "I never miss." She put the arrow back in the quiver. "Han--Inuyasha."

She saw his dog-ears flatten a moment, and wondered if the hint would sink in. "The name is Kikyo," she reminded him.

He glowered, wriggled until all four arrows snapped, dropped down and leapt back up into the trees. "Keep it safe for me, Kikyo-bitch," he called as he vanished.

She glared after his vanished form, and then, slowly, smiled.

Maybe she should be careful what she wished for.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This drabble was written for the 'Wilted Rose' community on LiveJournal, for Week 4: Titles contest. This was originally posted on June 30, 2008.


	4. Father's Daughter

**Father's Daughter**

She drew the bow softly, fingers firmly yet gently holding the tip of the arrow. She looked at the swinging target, yet did not really see it, except with her inner eye, which knew precisely where it was, how strong the errant breeze was, how much strength was needed to speed the arrow on its way. Her mind was still; serene.

The arrow snapped forward, impelled by the taut string as slender fingers released it. She did not need to watch it fly, another arrow caught in her fingers, to lie across the still vibrating bow. She fired again, and again, a full round of five, before lowering her bow. Blinking, she came back to herself, and saw the five arrows all bunched into the center of the roughly woven, stuffed bag swinging from the rope.

"Kami, girl, you're going to be better than your old man, if you keep going like this."

Kikyo looked up as the man ruffled her hair. "I'll never be that good, father," she protested.

He chuckled, and ruffled her hair again. "Don't contradict your father, girl," he chided her with a smile. "If I say you're good, you're good."

"Yes, father."

He glanced at the sky, before heading towards the target. "We'd better head back. You've got your chores with the herb-woman, and I've got to my own work to do."

The eight-year-old girl nodded, then trotted behind her long-striding father as he headed towards the tree and the dangling target he had set up. She took the arrows as he handed them to her, quickly inspecting each shaft before stowing it in her quiver. Looping the coiled rope and bag across his back, he shifted his black bow to his hand, checking to make sure his quiver of arrows was within easy reach.

They started back towards the village in silence, Kikyo stretching her legs to keep pace. She loved these lessons with her father. She knew he wasn't like other fathers in the village -- he rarely helped with the farming, he was frequently gone for several days, and he always carried his big black bow.

She also knew that being trained by her father was just as unusual. It puzzled her, but her father didn't like it when she asked questions. She also felt uncomfortable when she saw some of the older girls looking at her and whispering behind their hands, or when her friends teased her about becoming a boy.

But learning the bow more than made up for the puzzlement and occasional discomfort. She couldn't have said why, only that with the bow in her hand, she felt different. Stronger, more certain. The bow had never felt strange to her, from the first bow her father had put in her hands. She had hit the target almost from the first arrow; it was if she somehow always knew where the arrow would go. The bow just felt right. As if it were part of her.

There was a commotion in front of their hut, she saw as they returned to the village. Women were gathered in front of the hut, their voices agitated. And then, someone screamed.

"Mama!" The cry broke from Kikyo as she recognized the scream. She ran, quickly falling behind her father as he dashed towards the hut. She saw him nearly bowl over the nearest women before he could skid to a stop, and she could hear his curses.

"Tell me it's not happening again, damn it! Tell me!"

But it was.

* * *

Kikyo was supposed to be asleep, but it was all she could do was pretend, lying on her side on the other side of the screen, one hand outstretched to touch her bow. Her mother was actually asleep, finally, drugged by the midwife for her pain and grief.

Her father was ... well, where she didn't know. Somewhere with the other men, she thought, having vague recollections of him being dragged away from outside the hut. But she wished he was there, sitting beside her. Just being there.

The baby had come too soon, just like the last two. It had been a boy. Just like the last two. She had been kept busy, running errands, but she'd heard enough of her mother's cries and pleadings to know that she was heartbroken.

_Why do women lose their babies?_ she'd asked of one of her friends' mother, who had brought her supper and stood over her to make sure she ate. _I don't know,_ had been the reply. _Nobody knows, except the kami._

The girl closed her eyes against tears. A lot of babies died, either as they were born, or in the first year or so of life. She knew that--it simply was. But three in a row? It wasn't fair. She'd been looking forward to having a baby sister or brother--especially this time, when she understood more. She'd daydreamed about teaching her little sibling about the bow, just like father had taught her, and show it all about herbs, just like she was learning from the heal-woman. Most of her friends had siblings, both older and younger. Why didn't she have any?

The tears insisted on coming. Kikyo pulled the cloth over her head, and fell asleep, crying.

* * *

What woke her up was a sound something like a snarl. Startled and scared, Kikyo did what her father had told her to do when he wasn't there: grabbed her bow and arrows and scrambled to her feet, scuttling around the screen as she slapped the first arrow against the bow's wood.

There was a terrible sound of flesh meeting flesh, and then the snarl resolved into thick, barely intelligible words. "Damn you, woman! Why do you keep killing my sons?"

In the faint light from the moon, she saw her father leaning over her mother, one hand pulling her up by her yukata, the other hand clenched in a fist. He struck her mother's face, cursing. Then again--

"Stop it!" Kikyo shrieked. "Father, please, stop it!"

He looked up at her, dull eyes enraged, and then surprised. He straightened, dropping her mother. "Ki--kyo?"

Only then, did she realize that she had drawn her bow, the arrow pointing at him. Her arm trembled, drooping. "Yes, father. It's me."

"Don't dro' y'r arm..." he muttered, swaying a little. "Tau' you -- taught you better'n that..."

She straightened her arm. "Father? Please, don't hurt mother. You know she wanted this baby. You know she wanted a boy, just like you. She tried! She tried to be so careful! She didn't want it to die, you know she didn't!"

He swayed, took a few steps towards her. She backed away. He took one more step, then staggered and went down in a heap. Kikyo dropped her bow and arrows, and went to him. At first, she thought he had lost consciousness, but as she shook his shoulder, he broken into drunken sobs.

"All I wanted was a boy," she made out in broken words. "All I ever asked of her. A son. Give her anything, hunt biggest bear, wolf, build house, just--just as long as I get a boy. And all I get is a girl. Good girl. But a girl. Should've been a boy. Handling the bow like that ... should've been a boy..."

Kikyo bit her lip, eyes burning. "I-I know I'm not a boy, father, but I can be, be like a boy to you, can't I? I-I'll do, I'll do everything a son would do, if you want me to. You know I can use the bow. You can teach me all the rest, right? How-how to hunt, and, and everything? I'll—I'll even not get married, so I can take care of you and mother, when you get old…"

His head lolled back and forth. "Can't … he's coming back, you know … the priest who talked to you … said you'd have power … had to be a miko … miko protects … against youkai…"

"Miko?" She vaguely recalled a priest who had visited a couple of years ago. She didn't even remember what he had talked to be about. "I don't want to be a miko!"

"No choice," he slurred. "Why I taught you … bow works best… against youkai … m'little girl … gotta protect herself … can't … do it … for her…"

His words stumbled into incoherency, and then snores. And the girl sat by him, stunned and hurt.

She was to be a miko? That was why the training? Why hadn't he told her?

"Why can't I be a miko and stay here?" she whispered.

And there was no answer. Kikyo moved away and picked up her bow, checking that it had taken no damage, testing the string. She sat with it in her lap, arrows beside her, sleepless, haunted, wondering why they hadn't told her. Did they think it would really hurt less, not knowing?

She didn't know the answer.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This one-shot was written for the Wilted Rose community at LiveJournal, week 5: Abuse theme. It was originally posted on 7/17/08. It received the Moderator's Choice award. (Note: Edited for grammer and spelling, from the original posting.)


	5. Gossip

**Gossip**

The last pack-trader of the year just had to show up the day after she had unthinkingly invited Inuyasha to come down and play with the children. The meeting with the elders she had been summoned to that evening had been neither short nor calm. Kikyo would much rather have avoided the center of the village entirely for a few days, but she did need several things that probably would not otherwise be readily available -- at least, not without costing far more than it would from him. So, schooling her face, Kikyo reluctantly slipped into the crowd around the trader, behind a knot of young women. Not surprisingly, they were gossiping about the young men in the village.

"Hey, Suzuuki, what were you doing with Kenichi last night along the river?"

"Just--talking..."

"Talking? With Kenichi? That must have been interesting..."

"About as interesting as watching rice grow..."

"He's not stupid!" snapped Suzuuki, cheeks flaming. "Okay, he's not as smart as Masaru or Seiji, but he's not stupid! And he's one of the nicest guys in the village! Look at the way he treats his mother, or his sisters! He's tall, he's strong, and he's kind and gentle!"

"And daft. Did you hear him arguing with the other men, about going out to find that youkai pet of Kikyo's, and telling it to leave or die? He's so besotted by his little sister, he thinks it's fine if she goes running around with a youkai?!"

"I thought it was a hanyo."

"Hanyo, youkai, what difference does it make! I can't believe that our miko would even think of letting a monster like that near the children!"

"He is not a monster."

The knot of young women started, whipping around to stare at Kikyo. "Not a 'monster'?" repeated Haruka, the oldest of the maidens, with a rising sneer in her voice. "A thing like that? Miyuki said it had claws for hands, fangs and horns--and you let it among the children!?"

Kikyo couldn't help the twitch at one corner of her mouth. "Inuyasha doesn't have horns. He has ears--dog ears, actually. He's not a monster--he's part human. And he's not a danger to the children."

"And we know that how?" asked Haruka, scornfully.

"He saved Kaede's life from a centipede youkai," said Kikyo.

"Maybe it just did that to cut down competition. You know--it just wants to have us all to itself. Youkai don't like sharing."

Kikyo shook her head. "Inuyasha has a human soul. He has no reason to attack the village, as long as he isn't attacked. Furthermore, as I told the elders last night, I think he can eventually be persuaded to help protect the village from youkai attacks."

Several of the women looked startled, then thoughtful. Haruka was taken aback, but then rallied. "And just why would a youkai defend us against other youkai?"

"He is not pure youkai," Kikyo said, keeping a tight lid on her aggravation. "He has human blood. He's very lonely. I've talked with him, and I think he would do almost anything to be accepted--even just tolerated--by a village."

Haruka shuddered dramatically. "Let a youkai-blooded freak protect us? Are you crazy?!"

"No, I am not." Kikyo met the woman's gaze, trying not to glower. "I am the miko charged with protecting and purifying the Shikon No Tama. The jewel attracts youkai, and I do everything I can to protect the jewel and to protect all of you. But I'm not perfect, I'm not invincible, and Inuyasha can take out a centipede youkai with one blow. Since I can tell from his aura that his soul is human and that he is not evil, why should I not try to enlist his help?"

"But--"

Kikyo swept over her. "And do you really think a 'monster' would have let a little girl pull him all around the meadow looking for the perfect bouquet, or let her pet his ears?"

"Uh..."

"Now, if all you are going to do is gossip, do you suppose you could move out of the way? I would like to buy a few things from the peddler, and I do also need to get work done in the shrine this morning."

That, and a clearing of the throat from the peddler himself, broke the tension of the moment. Flustered, the young women hastily turned back to the rickety table that held the man's wares. No one dared look at Kikyo as she waited, made her purchases and left. Kikyo herself was tense, angry, and didn't wish to talk with anyone. Nevertheless, as she stored her purchases, pulled out the items she needed, and headed towards the stairs to the shrine, she couldn't help thinking about the entire episode--including the part about young Kenichi. She quite agreed with Suzuuki's assessment. He was a very nice young man. Gentle, polite, a ready smile on his rather broad face, always willing to help out.

Quite the opposite of Inuyasha. Foul-mouthed, rude, insulting...

On the other hand, 'nice' didn't kill marauding youkai.

She could live with rude.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was first posted on the Inuyasha FanFic Contest community, on July 29th, 2008, for Week 152: Nice Guy theme. This version has been edited slightly.


	6. Puppy Dog

**Puppy Dog**

Inuyasha finally slid to a halt in a meadow, squatting in the midst of scattered leaves last night's wind had deposited on the grass. Puffing, he scratched one ear, then the other, before vigorously shaking his head. That didn't help. He worked his ears round and round, together, separately. Nope. That didn't help either.

He slumped forward onto his elbows with a whine, hands cupping his traitorous ears. Why did they insist on feeling that girl's little fingers gently stroking their fur? Why did they insist of remembering the sound of her giggles? He'd run all night, trying to leave those memories scattered behind him, and it hadn't helped.

He whined again, and then forced himself to change it to a growl. Feh! How had he let himself be treated like a puppy dog! Little girls weren't supposed to find him and his ears cute! He was the big, bad hanyo that scared the liver out of humans! Little girls were supposed to scream and run away, not ask him to help pick flowers!

A sudden gust of wind smacked him in the face with a seed-head. He punished the errant weed with one swipe of his claws, and then found his gaze drawn to a leafless tree on the edge of the meadow. He could smell its dying state, and bolted towards it. Some little time later, with the shredded pieces of tree scattered all around the pitiful remnants of the trunk, he turned his back and kicked clods of grass and dirt at his vanquished foe. There! Proof he wasn't some tame little puppy dog!

Keh!

Sniffing, he located the nearest water and loped towards it. But as he ran, an errant thought drifted into his mind.

Wouldn't it feel nice if _Kikyo_ petted his ears?

_Arrrrgh! _

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was written for the "Scattered" theme for the "Wilted Rose" community in LiveJournal. Originally posted August 7, 2008.


	7. Why!

**Why?!**

Slammed to the ground, she realized only that the jewel was in danger. She struggled to grasp it with her outstretched hand—

A bare foot stamped down, grinding her hand into the ground. Contempt laced the familiar voice. "Fool! I never had any intention of becoming human. Thanks for the jewel…"

Her world shattered as she stared up at the red-clad figure. As he smirked and loped away, rage and disbelief, hatred and agony screamed through her soul. He had betrayed her! She had opened up to him, had trusted him, had loved him—Damn him! Why?

She wanted to curl up and die, crying her grief.

She wanted to scream out the physical pain, shrieking curses at the vanished hanyo.

But she was a miko, however much she had grown to hate that part of herself, that role that required her to be other than human. She had failed, she had been wrong. Fatally wrong. But she couldn't let herself die, without attempting to atone for her errors.

It was her duty.

It was all that was left to her, with her dream destroyed and dead.

And so, she struggled to her feet, ignoring the blood pouring down her back. With her bow and a single arrow in her hands, she forced her mortally wounded body to move, knowing with that sure sixth sense where he would be. Before the massive Goshinboku, she raised her bow, set the arrow against the string and drew it back. Calmly, emotionlessly, ignoring the ripped and torn muscles which should have made it impossible, she aimed the arrow where he would be, and released it—a last, perfect shot.

The arrow slammed through his heart, pinning him to the tree. The stolen jewel dropped from his clawed hand. Ignoring her defeated foe, the miko released the bow, staggered forward and fell to her knees. As her younger sister and the villagers crowded round, she picked up the Shikon No Tama, the last of her power purifying it. Utterly calm, utterly miko, she dictated her final directions. As she felt her body collapse, dying, she willed herself to concentrate on her desire: to remove the Shikon No Tama forever from the world, to end the struggle.

It was her duty.

Her responsibility.

But buried deep beneath the role of the miko she had forced herself into, amidst the anger and hate, the shattered heart of the woman cried out in despair. Why had he betrayed her? Why had he killed her? Why, why, _why?!_

If only she could see him, one more time. Just to look him in the eye and ask him. Just to learn the truth.

If the kami heard, they made no answer.

But the Shikon No Tama did.

If a jewel could smile, it would have. In contempt.

Foolish mortals and their multiple desires.

It would grant her wish. In its own way.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This story was written for the Wilted Rose community on LiveJournal, challenge #7: Contempt.


	8. Duty

**Duty**

She felt it before it came to her. When she first felt its disturbance, she would have fallen had she not already been kneeling, so powerful was that flare of rage and death on the spiritual plane. Sinking into trance to find the source of that power, she did not then learn what it was. But realization did come—she had sensed this power for years: a dark thread of malice oozing just beneath her conscious awareness.

She was not surprised, then, when the battle- and grief- weary taijiya came to her. She listened to their story of the legendary miko whose battle resulted in the Shikon no Tama, and how the jewel had returned, costing their greatest warrior's life.

She held the jewel in her cupped palms: a dark crystal, glowing black, with hints of light swirling within the darkness. She studied at it, coldness seeping through her thoughts.

Had she been born for this duty, to cleanse this ancient artifact? Was this why the priest had requested her father to teach her the bow? Why her teachers at the temple had occasionally looked at her with unease or pity?

Or was it just chance, of being the most powerful miko the taijiya could find?

It didn't matter.

She closed her eyes. Until now, using her power had often been tinged with awe, that she was allowed such strength; or the warm pleasure of knowing her gifts could help others.

But now, as she felt the musing daydreams of a girl withering and dying, it seemed as if her soul were moving from spring into winter, the purity of her power shifting from the careless abundance of the sakura to the pristine chill of heavy snow.

Duty bound her to the Shikon no Tama—

—Until one of them was destroyed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was written for The Wilted Rose community on LiveJournal. The prompt was 'Disturbance.' It was originally posted on December 20, 2008.


	9. Feeling Human

_**Disclaimer:** This one-shot is based on 'Inuyasha', owned by Rumiko Takahashi. No copyright infringement intended or implied._

**Feeling Human**

Why her body of grave soil and bone should have retained her miko powers after her replacement stole back most of their soul, Kikyo never understood nor cared. Frozen in the hurt, rage and bitterness that had accompanied her in death, obsession drove her, to take Inuyasha with her back into death. Later, when she learned the truth that obsession turned to Naraku.

Her miko gifts were only tools to gain obsession's goals. After the Shikon no Tama's arrival, it and her powers had required her to be not human. Her duty gave her no joy in life: her obsession gave her none in death.

She tried to find contentment, if not happiness, in a village. A prejudiced, prideful monk failed to destroy her, but his death ripped away the façade between her and the innocents. She could not bear the child's fear, and so she left, feeling emptied of anything but obsession's grip.

Then, later, she found a second village, abandoned, then reoccupied by the wounded losers of some minor war. Pain and need drew her, and within herself she found the spark of that gift that had given her the most joy in a different time.

She healed. With herbs and bandages and clean water, with her miko's touch to purify and drive away the denizens of the other world.

And they--accepted her. The men--sufferers of the savagery of war, lost to their homes, their old lives--neither knew nor cared that she was undead. They only knew that she helped them, cared for them, healed them. They were grateful. They smiled at her. They made her feel … more human. She could return their smiles, feeling a whisper of joy. She could almost feel, if only for brief moments, human.

It was their gift to her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This drabble was written for the Wilted Rose community on LiveJournal, for week 16: Gift. It won second place.


	10. Final Shot

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Final Shot**

She saw him as he jumped, the Shikon no Tama streaming behind his hand. She shouted his name, and then, as he started to react, raised the bow into position and fired her final shot.

The shot should not have been possible. Her back was shredded from his savage claws. Her life was draining with her blood, and she could barely stand.

But, the shot was an archer's perfection.

There was no thought in that moment. No emotion, though it was the searing rage that gave her the strength to lift the bow. Every perception, every action, occurred without volition.

She watched, as if outside time, as the arrow slowly sliced through his chest, pierced his traitorous heart, and then sank deep into the sacred tree. She saw the shock in his eyes, and his aborted gasp. The necklace slipped from his fingers. The Shikon no Tama fell ... and fell ...

It hit the ground, and time returned. The bow clattered to the ground as she staggered. Only the bitter rage kept her upright, kept her going until she kneeled to pick up the cursed crystal. Ignoring the sealed betrayer, she used the rage to keep her mask in place as she gave instructions to her horrified sister.

Because she would not let him defeat her. She had wanted the fighting to end. She had wanted to become an ordinary woman. She had wanted to stop having to be inhuman, stop being emotionless perfection.

She had wanted a happy ending.

His betrayal denied her that.

But, she could at least, still protect the jewel from him. She would die and take the jewel with her, while he remained: sealed, neither alive nor dead, his soul trapped for eternity.

She would never have to meet him again.

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**Author's Note:** This was written for the Wilted Rose community on LiveJournal, for the prompt "Seal." It was originally published on February 1, 2010.


	11. Walking In Shadows

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Walking in Shadows**

He walked in the shadows, Death dogging his heels. Joy was brief in his life: to run unfettered through the trees, to exult in one more victory: but his universe of one bore him down. He felt so alone. Blood of two worlds, belonging to neither: hated, feared, or despised by all. Always on guard, never to relax, never to play, never to know the satisfaction of friendship and simple belonging.

She walked in the shadows, Death dogging her heels. Joy was brief in her life: she loved her sister, and cared for the villagers, but the weight of duty bore her down. She felt so alone. Human, but not allowed to be human: she must be perfect in fearlessness, in purity, in dedication. Always on guard, never to relax, never to play, never to have time for friendship and simple belonging.

They met in the shadows as antagonists, seeking and defending the Shikon no Tama. Death waited for their blood, and yet-they hesitated. Shadowed soul recognized shadowed soul, looking past the roles fate intended them to play. Hesitation. Wary, untrusting words. Curiosity. Finding common ground, protecting the jewel against anyone else who sought it.

They met in the windswept meadow, and contemplated a dream.

Of living as an ordinary woman.

Of living as an ordinary man.

Of walking together, in the light.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This was written for the Inuyasha FanFic Contest community on LiveJournal, for the prompt "In the Shadows." It was originally published on August 10, 2010. It tied for third.


	12. For Vengeance's Sake

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied. _

**For Vengeance's Sake**

"I'm alive!" Her thoughts shouted defiantly to the absent Inuyasha. "I'm still alive!"

Her staggering increased. She felt no pain. She felt no lightheadedness. But, as her body crumpled to the ground, unmoving, Kikyo realized that what she did feel was—_void_.

Most of her soul had returned to the other. Only this tiny fraction, this single blaze of anger, bitterness, and vengeful desire remained. Worse, she realized, she could not have returned, even had she desired. Her once-soul had healed itself. It was whole again, and this ragged fragment was forever apart.

So be it. She did not want to return. She wanted vengeance! How acutely those last memories were: His claws raking down her torso. His laughter; mocking her. His surprise when she nailed him to the tree with her sacred arrow. She had meant him to sleep forever, suspended between life and death.

But, now, that other had freed him. Freed him to walk alive in the world again. Free to plan betrayal again. Her once-soul hadn't learned.

Very well. If she were not allowed to simply be at peace, she would at least make sure of him. He would have no chance to betray anyone, ever again.

But as night fell, she realized that even an attempt might be denied her. Horrified, she realized that her tattered soul was inadequate to sustain _haku_, the life-force that gave a body movement. She was trapped, bound to this shell of earth and ash and bone, unable to move. _No!_

Madness threatened then: helpless horror threatening to consume her.

An otherworldly flute's sweet notes sounded, echoed by childish laugher.

Straining, she glimpsed the soul-piper, and its entourage of giggling, childish souls. At the same moment, she felt a prickling. Messengers of the underworld were futilely attempting to pry what was left of her from the fake body. She would have laughed if she could, for she was now invulnerable to simple dying.

Kikyo's remnant remembered something then, something she had been warned was anathema. But, what cared she now, for mortal definitions of morality? Vengeance was all that was left, and vengeance she would have.

Her miko power was not entirely drained. Focusing her attention on two of the nearest messengers, she worked her will and her magic. They transformed. She felt satisfaction.

She started to order them to bring the children's souls to her. She hesitated. She remembered Kaede's tear-stained face. She remembered the children she had guarded, watched, taught, laughed, and sung with.

Revulsion rose. No. She would not use the souls of children to fuel her. Even undead, she would not go that far.

_Bring me the souls of young women_, she directed.

Far better for her purposes-were they not like her? Betrayed, whether through a lover's actions, or war, or famine, or illness? Taken before their time, denied a future, just as she had been.

Vengeance, even once removed, would surely still be sweet.

The shinidamachu flew away.

_Be afraid, Inuyasha. _

_I am coming._

* * *

**Author's Note:** This piece was written for the LiveJournal community I-B-4-Y, for an image prompt. It was originally posted on April 17th, 2011. It won first place._ (7/19/11)  
_


	13. Final

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.****

* * *

**Final**

His throat was a tight knot, no matter how many times he swallowed. Looking down at his hands, his heart felt as empty as his calloused palms.

Kikyo was gone. Dead, her body dissolving. This was the third—no, fourth time she had 'died,' but this time, it was final: unquestionable. She had died in his arms.

She was the first human since his mother who had talked to him, smiled at him, cared about him. It still felt like such a short time ago: barely more than a year ago since they had thought to use the Shikon no Tama to turn him human, with the dream unspoken, of spending the rest of their mortal lives together. He knew it was really fifty years ago. But, it didn't _feel _like it. One moment, he was dying, the Shikon no Tama dropping from his fingers, his eyes wide in disbelief seeing the woman who had killed him. A moment later, he'd been awake; furious, trapped, unable to move, confronted with a person who almost smelled like Kikyo, but wasn't her.

It had all been so confusing—two bodies, one soul, two loves, misunderstandings, anger, lies, but in the end…

He'd wanted to save her. He had failed.

Miroku dropped down beside him, offering one of Kagome's water 'bottles.' "A drink might help," offered Miroku softly. Inuyasha turned it in his hands. "I've never heard how you and Kikyo met. Want to talk?"

He shook his head.

"That's okay." A hand touched his shoulder. "If you need, I'll listen."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This piece was written for the prompt "Drink" for the Issekiwa LiveJournal community. It was originally posted on September 1st, 2011. It placed second. (11/5/2011)


	14. Drawn

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Drawn**

Kikyo gasped and crumpled to her knees, as something invisible wrapped around her, squeezing tight, sinking innumerable needles through her clothes and skin, sucking, draining-

And, in her mind, as if from a great distance, she heard Inuyasha's howl of pain from claws ripping down his back.

The sensation faded. Kikyo looked down at herself, and saw the fading splotches of red on her sleeves.

Sitting back on her heels, Kikyo thought, finally remembering the incident of a few months and fifty years ago. That appearing/disappearing isle she and Inuyasha had agreed to investigate. The meeting with a group of young hanyos, and the attacks that drove them away before they could do anything...

The isle must be re-appearing. She could feel a tug, a drawing towards the sea. Faint, she could easily ignore it. She should ignore it, in favor of searching for more shards. Still...

She knew Inuyasha was being drawn. He would go to that place of enormous magic with his friends, plunging them all into danger, including that ignorant girl who knew nothing of how to use her powers.

Kikyo curled a mental lip, for the hanyo's recklessness.

Then, she remembered the handful of children they had met. Earnest, young, and all alone. Hanyo, maybe, but still children. Children who had been in dire trouble then.

Who were, she somehow knew, in dire trouble still.

She and Inuyasha had failed, before. Would he succeed with his group, with _her_?

Hmph.

The shinidama chuu came.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was written for the prompt "Aisle or Isle" for the LiveJournal community Issekiwa, and is based on the fourth movie. It was originally posted on July 5th, 2012.


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